Sky Child
by Twilight Flame
Summary: The strange girl with the crow on her shoulder appears in Corus one day. She runs from those that would take her life as they did her family’s, all for the gift that enables her to speak to winged creatures, a gift that she no longer has. {Prologue}


**Note- Please forgive any Mary-Sue-ish-ness in the chapter.  I'm not sure if it's there at all, but if you find any, keep in mind that I don't tend to make this fic a Mary-Sue.   If you have any advice about what I can do to change it, please let me know.  E-mail me at TwilightRain4@hotmail.com.**

**Disclaimer- There is nothing that belongs to Tamora Pierce in this chapter; this disclaimer will serve for the entire story.  I do not own characters, places, names, or ideas that belong to Tamora Pierce.  The plot and certain characters are my own- please do not use them without my permission.**

**Summary- The strange girl with the crow on her shoulder appears in Corus one day.  She runs from those that would take her life as they did her family's, all for the gift that enables her to speak to winged creatures, a gift that she no longer has.  She puts the people she has come to know in grave danger when her pursuers reach Corus- but she will not be able to deal with them alone.**

_Prologue-_

_I throw my head back as the wind blows through my hair.  The grass is long here, and does not scratch my legs, so I sit down, mostly hidden by the dry green- yellow blades.  Here is where I will sleep, I decide.  I am safe and cannot be seen.  A bird circles overhead, large and black- a crow.  I call to it, and my voice is hoarse from the long time it has been unused.  The crow ignores me and continues its circling- I would not expect it to do otherwise.  Birds do not mind me- they are not searching for me, as humans are- and I do not mind them.  There was a time, not so long ago, when I could talk to them. Talk to anything with wings. But that time is past, and I am running now.  Running far away, far enough, I hope.  The wind blows stronger, and I sense a storm on the air.  Wind and rain coming.  I will be soaked to the bone.  If it is warm tomorrow, the plain dress I wear will dry, wrinkled and uncomfortable.  Or perhaps the storm will continue, and I will be forced to stay in this field of long grass until it subsides.  The wind is too strong already for me to travel, whipping my hair into my face and pushing the grass to sting my arms and legs. My pursuers will have to stop and quiet frightened horses, so there is no need to leave, if the storm continues. It will be uncomfortable either way, but there is nothing I can do about it.  _

_The first raindrop falls, and the crow drops lower, looking to the grass for shelter.  I wave my arms, shooing it away.  I have claimed this place, and am not about to give it up.  The crow, ignoring me still, perches on a twisted branch a short distance away.  Sighing, I reach into the pocket of my dress to pull out the scrap of cloth.  "It holds the key to your escape," she told me.  I study it: it is plain brown in color, with a yellow border in the design of a twisting, many-leafed vine.  The fact that the border is on only one side tells me that the scrap has most likely been cut out of some garment, and in size it is smaller than my hand with fingers outstretched.  And I am not even sure if she meant the people who follow me now when she said what she did.  Perhaps she meant my escape from something else entirely.  The crow flies closer, a reminder still of the days when I could have talked to it- I do not even know if it is male or female- and its kind. Perhaps it is curious about the thing I hold in my hand. No longer annoyed by its company, I hold up the cloth for it to see.  _

_I flinch slightly as it lands on my outstretched arm, as it begins to examine the brown scrap.  "I wish you could understand me," I whisper, careful not to startle it.  "But you can't, can you?"  It cocks its head at me, as if it does__ understand, and for a moment I almost believe that the old gift has returned- but no, the crow is simply responding to my words, spoken aloud.  "You can stay with me, if you like," I add.  The rain has begun to fall in earnest now, and the wind blows harder, trying to move me from my place, trying to lift the crow into the air.  The crow bobs its head up and down, trying to pull the cloth from my hand.  I could pretend that it is nodding, accepting my invitation to stay.  But I know that it will be gone by morning, so I do not pretend.  Instead I gently pull the cloth scrap from the crow's beak, return it to my pocket, and curl up into a ball in the soft grass, letting the heat from my own body keep me warm in the rain and wind.  I pray to the Goddess, briefly before I sleep, that they will not find me and that I will be safe here.  And then the darkness comes and I am asleep._

_In the morning the wind has quieted to a gentle breeze and the rain is a silver shimmer in the air.  The crow has not left, but I stop myself from being joyful, or even happy.  Of course it has not really understood me; that would be impossible.  It is coincidence that it is here, and will be coincidence if it chooses to follow me elsewhere.  I stand up, and stretch my cramped legs; rising is high as I can towards the gray morning sky.  The crow, noticing my movement, pushes itself into the air and lands clumsily on my shoulder.  Coincidence, __I tell myself, coincidence is all that it is.  __Aloud I say, "If you will follow me, crow, you should have a name.  Will Stormcloud do, as you helped me to wait out the storm?"  The crow- Stormcloud now- caws once, a sound I decide- or rather, imagine- must be agreement.  "All right- Stormcloud it is.  I will be glad to have someone to speak to.  And now we should be going, for they can move again now that the storm is gone.  But there is still the question of whether you are male or female.  I can't go around thinking of you as 'it,' really.  Which one then?"  The crow is silent.  "Very well.  If you will not decide, I will decide for you.  You will be a girl, like me."  Stormcloud shifts her weight from foot to foot.  I do not know what this means, but as she cannot understand me anyway… I begin to walk, the crow balancing on my shoulder. We have a long way to go.  But now I have a companion, and it will not be so bad.        _


End file.
